


Flower Child

by turbomun



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Selectively Mute Frisk, and there's no shipping in this whatsoever, that's it for major characters but the other monsters are in the background
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-21
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-07 11:12:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13433514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/turbomun/pseuds/turbomun
Summary: When the pacifist route is over, life has just begun for the characters of Undertale. Despite the ending, Frisk is still DETERMINED - determined to put their newfound family back together...





	1. Fallen human

**Author's Note:**

> This fanfic is based on an AU I developed with my girlfriend that's basically Undertale as it would exist in the Wreck-It Ralph universe. I.E., game characters are intelligent, they know that they're in a video game, and they consider their role in the game to be a job. It may seem a little odd at first, but I think it ultimately fits better than you might expect, especially since Undertale is already so meta. The characters have their same basic personalities as in the game, and while I did borrow a couple of other elements from Wreck-It Ralph, you don't really need much background to understand this story.
> 
> However, this is my first time writing an Undertale fanfic, so I beg both your toleration and your feedback as I get used to it.

**PART ONE**

_1\. Fallen Human_  

* * *

 

“If you really do not have anywhere else to go, then I will do my best to take care of you. …Now, come on! Everyone is waiting for us!” 

Toriel reached down and took Frisk’s hand, leading the child across the peak of Mt. Ebott just as she had led them through the Ruins, a couple of hundred rooms ago. Orangey-gold light spilled across them; Frisk wasn’t sure if the sun was rising or setting, but after so long underground, it hardly seemed to matter. The warmth felt wonderful against their face either way.

A perfect ending to a long and arduous journey. Frisk had been accepted into a new home, freed a long-oppressed race from their prison, and made so many wonderful new friends along the way: Toriel, Papyrus, Sans, Undyne, Alphys, Asgore, Asriel—

…well, maybe this ending wasn’t quite perfect after all. Nevertheless, things had drawn to a satisfying close, and they had no reason to feel unhappy. As long as their hand was clasped within Toriel’s fuzzy fingers, now and for the foreseeable future, everything would be all right.

And on that note, a loud chime sounded from the sky. 

Toriel’s smile widened, and as she and Frisk rounded the corner, they were greeted by the beaming faces of the other monsters. “And that is it!” she declared. “Well done, everyone!” 

Frisk beamed as well. It had taken a lot of time and hard work, but the player had finally beat the pacifist route of their game. Now the game-off chime had sounded, and they were free to live their lives without a gamer’s intervention – in other words, free to enjoy their hard-earned happy ending.

* * *

 

“Congrats, kiddo!”

“Well done, human!!”

“Boy, our player sure is a weird one, huh?”

This last comment came from Sans, who’d approached Frisk from behind while they were accepting their congratulations, ruffling their hair with one bony hand. They grinned at him and caught his arm in their grasp.

“They went through all that trouble to backtrack through the Underground,” he continued, “but then can’t even be bothered to sit through the credits? That’s weird. Besides, our credits are _fun_.”  
  
“That is not ‘weird’, Sans, that is mere impatience,” corrected Toriel, chuckling.

Frisk bobbed their head in agreement, but their smile had faded just the smallest bit. That mention of “backtracking through the Underground” had reminded them once again of Asriel, who’d stood overlooking the golden flowers in the spot where Frisk had first fallen, informing them that he couldn’t come back, he wouldn’t break everyone’s hearts all over again. Now that the game was over, though, where was he? Still by the flowers? Maybe, possibly, still in his normal form…? 

“Come, my child,” Toriel said, derailing their train of thought. “It has been a very long day. Let us return home…” 

Yes. Home…that sounded perfect. They hadn’t been Home in forever, it seemed… 

They bid goodbye and goodnight to each of their friends, freely distributing hugs. There would be plenty of time to play tomorrow, and they were looking forward to it. They could set their painful speculations about Asriel aside for the moment, because Toriel was right: it had been a long day, and all they wanted was a calm, quiet evening, and then sleep. 

Toriel wound her way back towards the entrance to the Underground (Asgore nervously skirted out of her path, avoiding eye contact) and Frisk scampered after her. She would never leave them behind, of course, but there was still that little twinge of anxiety at the thought of becoming separated from one’s mother— 

And then, all at once, Frisk heard three sounds, each one directly behind their ear.

The first: a gentle _pop_ , the kind of noise you could make with your lips, or by pulling your hand away from something with gentle suction. 

The second: a startled yelp in what sounded like a child’s voice. 

And the third: the unmistakable _thud_ of a soft body striking the ground.

Frisk whirled around, startled, to be immediately confronted with something behind them that had certainly not been there just a moment before: an irregular pile, consisting of a striped green sweater, brown corduroys, scuffed lace-up boots…brown hair like somebody had tossed away a wig…and pale hands… 

The hair stirred, then lifted up, solidifying into a bob cut and bangs. Just below those bangs was a light face with rosy cheeks and warm brown eyes, almost a red-brown, really… 

Frisk had seen that face once before, in a framed photograph, where the child now in front of them had been smiling and clasping hands with Asriel Dreemurr. The love and contentedness in that picture had now been replaced by confusion and uncertainty as the child shifted on the ground, like they’d forgotten how to move, or like their limbs were much heavier than expected. But of course, they were the same person, and Frisk knew their name. It was— 

“ _Chara?!_ ”

It was Toriel who had spoken – or maybe _gasped_ would be a better word for it – as she rushed back the way she had come, disbelief thrumming in her wide eyes. And on the ground, Chara reacted by finally managing to shove themself up into a sitting position. “Mom!” they cried. 

Even that single syllable caused recognition to jolt through Frisk’s chest. Maybe they’d only seen Chara’s face in that single image, but they’d heard that voice before, and quite often. It was the voice that spoke to them out of the air whenever the game was saved, or they examined an object, or the player selected the “Check” option during a Fight. 

Now everyone else was congregating to see what was going on, Asgore had forgotten his fear of Toriel and was rushing to the front of the crowd, and Toriel herself was hauling Chara to their feet, exclaiming, “But Chara, how are you here?! Where have you _been_?!” 

“I…I’ve been here all the time!” Chara’s eyes alighted on Frisk for a moment. “I saw everything that happened! I even talked sometimes, but nobody could see me, ‘cause I didn’t have a body anymore! I-I never thought…!”

They looked down at themself as if they’d forgotten what it was like to have limbs or wear clothes, then back to Toriel as she crushed them in a hug against her chest…a hug which they promptly returned. 

Frisk was effectively lost in the fray for a couple of minutes, but their head whirled with so many thoughts that they scarcely noticed. _I’ve been here the whole time_ , Chara had said, and it must have been true; they’d narrated Frisk’s entire journey, sometimes with a cheekiness that had made Frisk’s mouth curl. But that meant that during everything they’d done, every move they made, an invisible presence had been hovering over their shoulder. Watching everyone in the Underground with no way to make itself known to those who had once cared about it… 

Chara stumbled ungracefully from one parent from the other, crying out, “Dad! _Daddy!_ ” As they reciprocated Asgore’s tearful embrace, it seemed as though their legs were gradually remembering how to stand and how to walk; by the time they pulled back from him, they no longer appeared on the verge of tripping at any moment. Then they turned around carefully to face Frisk. 

“Um…hello,” they ventured with a nervous little smile. 

Frisk jolted out of their contemplations and managed to wave. 

“I guess you don’t really know me,” said Chara, eyes flicking towards the ground. “But, um…I know you. I mean, I think I was kind of stuck to you, like flower seeds…” They giggled softly. “Sorry if that sounds weird.”

Up until now, Frisk hadn’t been entirely sure what to make of the newcomer. They knew that Asriel had loved Chara with all of his heart, as had his parents – but he’d also admitted that they hated humanity and had wanted to kill their human attackers after merging with his Soul. With that meager amount of information, Chara’s personality could have gone either way, but they did not seem particularly hateful or murderous right now. They seemed like a fairly normal (if slightly anxious) kid.

“I did try to help you,” continued Chara, bunching up their sweater in their hands. “I mean, as much as I could, since I, y’know, didn’t have a real body.” Another little giggle. “Until now. I didn’t expect _this_ …”

They were not laughing because they found anything particularly humorous, but because they were frightened. Frisk didn’t fully realize that until Toriel and Asgore placed comforting hands on Chara almost in unison, one on their head, one on their shoulder. After that, their tense smile did ease off a bit. 

“You do not need to explain yourself, my child,” Toriel assured them. “Not at this very moment…” 

“Goodness, you must be a bit overwhelmed,” remarked Asgore, and he lifted his thumb briefly, running it along Chara’s cheek. “I know I am…but in a good way.”

They gazed up at their parents, and Frisk thought that whatever lapses in morality Chara may have had, not loving their family couldn’t have been one of them. There were some emotions that you couldn’t fake when they flooded into your eyes, and love was one such emotion. It was even strong enough to render Asgore unselfconscious about how close he was to Toriel, and to prevent Toriel from glaring in his direction. 

It was a peaceful moment…but a moment was all it was. Then Chara asked, “Um, Mom, Daddy? If I’m here, then…what about Asriel?” 

Toriel and Asgore looked at each other (wow, they actually made eye contact and everything, _that_ was impressive). In the story, neither of them knew about their son’s new and soulless identity, since he’d reset the timeline and vanished before they could discover him. But this was not the story, it was the game, and there probably wasn’t a single sprite who didn’t know about the connection between Asriel Dreemurr and a certain Flowey. Frisk was certain that Flowey was still around, maybe watching over the flowers below them, maybe off somewhere else…but was he Flowey? Or was he, maybe…? 

Judging by the expressions on the King and Queen’s faces, they were just barely daring to hope. 

Then, once again, a sound came from behind Frisk, this time of somebody’s throat being cleared. They were barely surprised when Sans stepped up beside them; he certainly hadn’t been there a minute or so ago, but appearing from nowhere was typical behavior for him.

“Hey, Chara,” he said mildly, nodding at the frazzled child who was still clasped beneath their parents’ hands. “I thought we might see you around.” 

Chara’s brow furrowed. “You knew I was there,” they responded, almost accusingly. “Sometimes when you were talking to Frisk, you always looked…right where I would have been, if I wasn’t invisible. And I just I knew that you knew, somehow.” 

Sans’s perpetual grin widened a little. “It’s my job to know these kinds of things, kid. I gotta know what’s going on in the code.” 

Frisk’s head tilted curiously. What exactly was _that_ supposed to mean? 

Chara suddenly straightened up, slipping out of Toriel and Asgore’s grasp. “Well, if you know these kinds of things, then where is my brother?” they demanded. 

“Probably in his room by the Ruins,” replied Sans; his skeletal grin never wavered, making it extremely difficult to get a read on him. “Though he sometimes likes to hang out in Waterfall by the statue. But, uh, since I know what you’re _really_ asking, I’m about ninety-nine percent sure he’s still Flowey. That’s kind of how the game works.” 

They stiffened. “What?! The game works so that _I_ get to be me at the end, but _he_ doesn’t?!”

“Sorry, pal. I didn’t program it.”

“That’s not—!” Chara screwed up their face indignantly, only to cut themself off when they noticed that Frisk had stepped forward, raising their hands to sign a brief message:

‘ _We can check on him.’_ Frisk’s pudgy child-fingers darted in the air, forming each word deliberately. They were more or less mute – though in dire situations, they had still been known to form a few syllables – but fortunately, the residents of the Underground had been programmed to understand the protagonist’s main method of communication.

Chara’s brow furrowed. “Check on him…?” 

‘ _To see if he is still Flowey_ ,’ signed Frisk. ‘ _Maybe now, he will be—’_

“Now, now, I am certain that Sans knows what he is talking about,” interjected Toriel quickly. She seemed eager to shut down any track of the conversation that included her children getting near Flowey; she’d already purged her face of all vestiges of hope. Behind her, Asgore appeared to have taken the news a little harder, but then again, he also still looked a bit dazed from Chara falling out of the sky. He didn’t contradict his ex-wife, of course. The last few minutes of the game had taught him _that_ lesson.

However, Chara had no such reservations. “Mom!” they protested. “We can’t just forget all about Asriel! He’s my _brother_!”

Toriel’s face locked into a strange, stiff expression, like the one that she’d worn during the game when Frisk had insisted on leaving the Ruins. “No, Chara. Asriel _was_ your brother, but he is gone now. Only Flowey is left.”

Chara’s eyes widened hurtfully. 

“I am sorry.” Her demeanor abruptly softened, and her hand moved to the top of their head once more. “Come, my child, now is not the time to be having this discussion. You must be just as exhausted as Frisk. Let us get you home.” 

“Um…” They pressed their lips together, allowing their eyes to drift aside uncertainly. “Maybe, um, I should just go home with—” 

Frisk lifted their hands again. ‘ _I want you to come home with us.’_

Chara stared as if their fellow human had just signed a dirty word. “…you _do_?” 

Frisk nodded. ‘ _Please_.’ 

Apparently Chara had no idea to react to that. Their eyebrows came together, they looked from side to side and up and down, and they started tugging and twisting their sweater once again. Finally, after considering refusal for several long seconds, they said, “Well, okay. If you really want me to, I’ll come home with you and Mom.” 

Toriel smiled reassuringly, and Frisk smiled too, padding forward and offering their hand for Chara. After a moment, the other child accepted. Their skin was a little cold, but certainly not deathly so, and Frisk’s last surreal sensations of speaking to a walking corpse boiled away in the sunset light.

Human-hater or not, perhaps Chara – just like Flowey – wasn’t as bad as Frisk had initially feared. Perhaps, like so many other monsters, they had a good side that wasn’t as deeply buried as it had first seemed. As they followed Toriel back around the peak of Mt. Ebott, headed for a much-needed rest, Frisk thought that even though the game might be over, they weren’t finished making friends just yet.


	2. Taking care of the flowers

When they arrived at Home, Chara couldn’t stop touching things. 

There was a great irony in the fact that, while the monsters spent the entire game wishing that they could get to the surface, the actual accessible surface for them consisted of Mt. Ebott’s peak and little else. Fortunately, the programmed issues that plagued the Underground did not exist after game time ended, and its residents were still free to go see the sun or stars whenever they pleased. 

Home – Toriel’s little house in the Ruins – now seemed cozy rather than stifling. Frisk was glad to be there, and they would have gladly slurped down a bowl of the soup that Toriel prepared and then headed straight to bed, but instead they couldn’t help following Chara around the house. Chara, who couldn’t stop touching things. 

Chara stopped in the hallway, where they’d been gently prodding at one of the water sausages standing in its vase, and stared at Frisk over their shoulder. “What?” they asked defensively.

Frisk shrugged. 

“I haven’t had a body for a long time,” said Chara. Well, okay, technically it hadn’t been _that_ long, but their backstory made it feel like much longer. “I want to remember what things feel like.” 

Not too long after that, they must have decided to remember what a bed felt like, because they turned into the room that they’d be sharing with Frisk tonight. They dragged their palms around the toys, the bedspread, even the dusty shoes piled up in a box, until finally they came to the picture frame. It was empty, of course, but they stared at it as if they could discern a hidden image behind the glass. 

“In me and Asriel’s room, we had a family portrait here,” they murmured. 

Frisk nodded. They remembered that portrait very well. 

Chara took a few steps back from the picture frame and gazed around the room. “It’s almost like where I lived before…but not quite. There aren’t two beds. And…Asriel’s not here…”

They missed him. Frisk didn’t need to be a mind reader to tell how much his absence was preying on Chara’s mind. It looked as if his immense love for them was very much reciprocated. 

So Frisk approached Chara, tapped on their shoulder, and signed the same message that they’d signed before: ‘ _We can check on him.’_ In fact, Frisk really _wanted_ to check on him, and so far Chara was the only person they’d seen who might be willing to accompany them. Everybody else had given up on him – even his own parents… 

At first, Chara’s eyes lit up. Hopes danced across their face like reflected splatters of light: maybe the adults were wrong, maybe Asriel was himself again after all. It wasn’t impossible, right? But then they lowered their eyes and began fiddling with their sweater. “I don’t know. I think…it’s not a good idea for me to go.”

Frisk frowned, and they signed pointedly in Chara’s line of vision. ‘ _Don’t you want to see him?’_

They expected a protest along the lines of _it’s not really him, it’s just soulless Flowey,_ a train of thought that had begun to frustrate them somewhat. Even if he was a flower with no soul, he had Asriel Dreemurr’s memories, so who else _was_ he? But when Chara shook their head, they actually demurred in a completely unexpected way. “Of course I do, but maybe he doesn’t want to see me. Or even if he does, maybe he _shouldn’t_ see me.” 

‘ _What?_ ’ Frisk’s frown turned puzzled. ‘ _Why not_?’

“You heard what he said, Frisk. I’m not really the greatest person.” 

They winced. They kept forgetting that Chara had been their invisible partner during their journey, and that they’d seen and heard everything along the way, including Asriel’s speech at the end of the game. Frisk tried to imagine watching your closest friend’s misery and sorrow, longing to reach out and comfort him but unable to be seen or felt, and then hearing him say that ‘Chara wasn’t really the greatest person.’ Whether that was true or not, _ouch_. 

‘ _You don’t seem like a bad person, though_ ,’ Frisk signed cautiously. ‘ _He said that because you wanted to fight_.’

Chara’s head snapped up. “They were trying to kill my _brother_! And me! Of course I wanted to fight!” 

Okay, fair enough, even if Frisk wasn’t a big fan of fighting in general. ‘ _And also because…you hate humans_.’ 

This time, Chara looked askance. Their hands were moving busily in the fabric of their shirt. “I don’t hate you, Frisk,” they replied quietly. “But you’re the only good human I’ve ever met. The others…I have my reasons for hating them.” 

Frisk said nothing. If even Asriel didn’t know those reasons, then they didn’t think that Chara would be sharing them to a kid who they hadn’t known for all that long. 

“He’s right, though.” Chara sighed. “I’m hateful. I wanted to kill people, I mean, I really _wanted_ to. And if you don’t think I’m a bad person, that’s because during the pacifist run, you never get to see how hateful I can really be.”

Frisk vied for eye contact with them before signing a response. ‘ _That doesn’t make you a bad person_.’ 

There was a long pause. Chara untwisted their hands from their sweater and began nervously stroking the bed coverlet. “I just don’t know if I belong here anymore,” they mumbled, more to themself than anything. “I didn’t even think I’d be around anymore once the game ended. I thought I’d just go back to sleep…” 

Frisk shrugged. 

“Maybe you’re right,” they finally conceded. “Maybe I’m just being a coward. I mean, I know Asriel, but…I barely know Flowey at all.” 

‘ _I know Flowey. I know that he needs a friend_.’ Whether he was soulless or otherwise, Frisk couldn’t believe any differently. 

Pause.  
  
“Okay. We’ll go check on him. First thing tomorrow?”

Frisk nodded. 

Chara sat on the edge of the bed and began swinging their legs. The blanket rippled each time that their boot-heels struck it. “Thanks for putting up with me, Frisk,” they said. “I know I’m pretty weird, and that I’ve been acting weird all night, and you don’t know me that well – but you’re still here listening to me. You really _are_ a good person.” 

‘ _You helped me_ ,’ signed Frisk, smiling as they settled down beside Chara. Besides, their fellow human child wasn’t _that_ weird, or at least, no weirder than any of their other monster friends.

“I tried my best.” Chara offered a return smile. It was small, but it was genuine. “So…does this make us friends?” 

Friends? Friends who happened to share the same set of adoptive parents, and who’d gone everywhere together so far? Frisk thought that there was probably a better word for that. ‘ _Not friends_ ,’ they signed. ‘ _Siblings_.’ 

Chara’s eyes widened, but a moment later, so did their smile, and when Frisk leaned forward to hug them they returned it without a moment’s hesitation.

No matter what kind of person Chara was, reflected Frisk, they clearly wanted to be loved like anyone else, and they were so happy to feel accepted. And somebody like that really couldn’t be all bad after all.

* * *

_Don’t worry about me. Someone has to take care of these flowers._  

Flowey drooped so far over that the edges of his petals brushed against the golden flowers below him. Normal, inanimate, _lucky_ golden flowers, which didn’t have to feel sad or lonely or guilty or any of that. Those flowers didn’t care that they were stuck here even after the game ended and everybody else got to go home. If only he could be so oblivious. 

All right, so he wasn’t _stuck_ here, he supposed. He knew how to move around as a flower; he’d had lots of practice with it, and he could pop up anywhere he wanted to in the game. But that would have been asking for trouble. Unlike in the story, everybody would recognize him, and he didn’t want to look at the fear and revulsion and suspicion on their faces as they saw Flowey the Flower, renown serial murderer, lurking about and ready to disrupt everyone’s happiness. He was too well attuned to everyone’s behavior not to know exactly what they’d think. 

So he just stayed by the bed of golden flowers in the game’s very first room, like he’d told Frisk that he would. Remembering how it felt to have a soul again must have temporarily restored his conscience, because all he could think was how it was better for him to be here where he couldn’t anyone. He was a menace, pure and simple. Maybe eventually he’d get bored or fed up and forget that, but for now, it was fresh in his mind. 

He lifted his head with a jolt, suddenly realizing that he heard something echoing out from the open entrance to the Ruins; outside of game time, all of the puzzles were disabled, and sound could travel quite far throughout the network of caves. Bouncing towards him now were footsteps, and a voice that sounded like

( _Chara it sounds just like Chara)_

a child’s, and _not_ like Chara, because Chara was dead and buried beneath his roots at this very moment. Besides, he didn’t actually know what Chara sounded like, did he? All of his memories of them were just programmed backstory. 

“… _this way, right…?”_ The words leapt out from a garble of incomprehensible echoes. 

Flowey sighed to himself. Memories for a game character were slippery, obnoxious things. Technically, all of the characters here had only existed for about twenty-four hours, but each of them had an individual history hardwired into their minds: from his own befriending and losing Chara, to Asgore’s slaughtering of the six human children, to Sans’s…whatever. (He clearly had _something,_ but he hadn’t exactly shared with anyone what it was.) It was damn near impossible to proceed as though your memories didn’t represent something real; they still defined you, still dictated your personality and actions, still felt as real to you as any of the more tangible aspects of gameplay. Which was why Flowey could be upset right now, as well as why something in the back of his mind thought that the distant voice sounded like Chara, although of course it wasn’t. 

“… _sure about this? I mean…_ ”

But whoever it may have been, they were coming closer. He scowled. Probably it was some kid who hadn’t seen him during the game, coming to gawk at the magic talking flower… 

…except that couldn’t be right, because who knew that he was here? Just because his former identity was common knowledge didn’t mean that his location had been broadcast out to everyone. But Frisk knew – and with that thought, he realized that he was hearing two sets of footsteps, not one.

Of course. Frisk was coming to visit him – and they’d brought a friend. 

He tamped down the joy that wanted to bubble up in his nonexistent heart. Yes, okay, he was lonely and Frisk didn’t seem to be bothered by anything he did, no matter how horrible, but they shouldn’t _be_ here! He was dangerous, a menace, a murderer…and besides, they had their own life now. They must have had better things to do.

The voice had stopped now, but the footsteps were closer than ever. _Go away, Frisk. Go away…!_

His attempt to exude a forbidding atmosphere failed miserably. When he lifted his head again, Frisk was right in front of him, separated from him only by the patch of flowers. 

Flowey caught his breath. “What…are you _doing_ here?” 

Frisk started to raise their hands – then they frowned thoughtfully, and instead of signing, they gestured for someone in the shadows to step out. That would be whatever friend they’d brought with them, some other kid from the game who was now (understandably) having second thoughts about this…

The friend shuffled up to Frisk’s side. 

It was Chara. 

Flowey’s eyes bugged out of his face. He closed them, took a deep breath, and counted to three in his head. When he opened them, Frisk’s friend was still there, and it was still Chara. Though they looked much more frightened and uncertain than he was used to. 

Oblivious to their companion’s emotions, Frisk beamed down at him and signed: ‘ _We came to see you!_ ’ 

His mouth dangled open stupidly. Chara, who should have been dead in the ground underfoot, stared back at him. Whether or not his memories were “real”, there was no mistaking them: the rosy cheeks, the huge brown eyes beneath a protective fringe of bangs, even the way their hands bunched up their too-big sweater like they always did when they were nervous… 

“Asriel?” they asked tentatively.

That was the final snap of recognition in Flowey’s brain, and in response, he leaned as far back from the two human children as possible. 

“Go _away_!” he shrieked. “You shouldn’t _be_ here! Don’t you get it?! I’m dangerous like this, I’m soulless, I’ve killed _everyone_ over and over again…! You’re supposed to be scared of me! You’re supposed to _hate_ me!”

Frisk and Chara exchanged a glance. Chara’s expression was beginning to look more confused than fearful. “I can’t hate you,” they said in a soft, puzzled voice. “You’re my brother…”

Did they just say—?! Were they _insane_?! Did they not see who they were talking to?!

“ _No I’m not!”_ screeched Flowey, barely noticing the teardrops budding at the corner of his eyes. “I’m Flowey! Flowey the flower, who was horrible to everyone just because I was bored and wanted to see what would happen! Who killed Frisk over and over so they’d never leave because I was having too much _fun_ killing them! Who stole the Souls of _every monster in the underground_ without a second thought! Whose Level of Violence is completely off the charts! Who—” 

Then Frisk took a step forward, and he flailed, forgetting how to inch back in his moment of absolute panic. “ _Stop!_ Don’t c-come any closer!” 

And then Chara came forward, too, and a spasm of terror wracked him from roots to stem. He couldn’t watch them die again, especially not at his hands…! He just _couldn’t_! 

Yet there was no fear in their eyes whatsoever. “You don’t sound much like Flowey to me,” they remarked. “You sound like _you_. Asriel, you’re you, aren’t you? And you can finally see me again…!” Their whole face turned up in a smile. “I’ve been here all this time, and I could see you but you couldn’t see me, I just wanted to do _something_ to make you feel better, and I couldn’t, but now…!”

They reached out for him. Flowey recoiled. And his magic, reacting to his desires and emotions, materialized a circle of bullets in the air with an ominous _pop_. 

Chara jerked back with a stifled cry, their gaze flying up to the threateningly whirling projectiles, but somehow Frisk was undeterred. They bunched their hands into fists and took another step closer, their posture radiating…well… _Determination_. His breath hitched, and his pupils darted rapidly back and forth between the bullets and the approaching human. “No,” he said hoarsely. 

Frisk came closer. The bullets wobbled towards them uncertainly. 

“Frisk, stop!” he cried. “ _Please!_ Y-you’re going to get hurt!” 

They shook their head and came closer still.  
  
“ _Frisk_! The _bullets_! I…I don’t…!”

 One more step, and Flowey broke. The bullets flickered and dissolved into intangible powder, and he sobbed out, “ _I don’t want to hurt you!_ ” 

The next thing he knew, tears too big for his flower form were rolling down his cheeks, and Frisk’s arms were wrapped around his narrow stem, carefully but tightly. They were stroking the back of his head, and he was crying into their shoulder, and it was only at that moment that he truly understood that he wasn’t soulless anymore. It wasn’t wishful thinking, it was just a fact – nobody who couldn’t love would have been as terrified for Frisk’s well-being as he’d been mere moments ago.

After a minute or two, he choked his sobs down to snivels, raising his head a little. Well, this did make sense, didn’t it…? After all, Souls were really just a game mechanic, and now that the game was over…he was just like any other character.

Except for the fact that everyone probably still hated him. 

Chara stood just behind Frisk, wringing their hands and giggling. He’d long known that they were prone to bouts of nervous laughter, which he used to envy; it seemed like they’d been able to laugh off just about anything. Now, though, it just made him wilt all over again, because he couldn’t remember them ever reacting to his actions that way. 

“I’m sorry, Chara,” he said despondently. “I – I never wanted any of that to happen, I swear…” He hadn’t seen his best friend in who-knew-how-long, and yet the first thing he did was scream at them to go away and then nearly attack them. Talk about a botched second impression. 

Chara cut off their laughter abruptly. “No, it’s – I’m not—!” Their tongue fumbled for a few seconds before they managed to get out, “I just – can’t tell if – if you…even want me here or not.” 

He stared at them. “Chara…for as long as I can even remember, all I ever wanted was _you here_!” 

“But,” they protested, “you said…!” 

His turn to burst into a nervous giggle-fit. When it subsided, he gasped, “Well, I never would have said that if I knew that you were _listening_!” 

Chara’s lips twitched. “Haven’t you ever heard that you shouldn’t speak ill of the dead?”

And for whatever reason, that set all three of them off, except this time the laughter felt good. Cleansing, almost, or like a reminder of what it was like for the three of them to be happy and together. Frisk and Chara both flopped out in the bed of golden flowers next to him, laughing at practically nothing, until tears streaked the three children’s cheeks. 

And Flowey – no, not Flowey, _Asriel_ – Asriel felt better than he had since he’d reluctantly pulled away from Frisk’s hug at the end of the pacifist run. He had a friend – or even more than a friend; a sibling – on either side of him, and they were both grinning at him, and he was beaming at them with the stupidest, dumbest, most _brilliant_ smile on his face, and nothing had ever made him happier. 

This time, he didn’t have to let go.


	3. Nothing better to do

At the very end of a deserted corridor in Waterfall, Flowey was rooted in a patch of shadowed ground, his back to the world behind him. Nevertheless, he could hear presences closing in on him, swift rushing feet waiting to pounce. His stem was tense and alert; his petals quivered a little with concentration. He just had to wait for the perfect moment to turn, and then his pursuers would be history…

He whirled around and bellowed, “RED LIGHT!” 

Frisk and Chara both froze in their tracks, eyes fixed on him. Their muscles quivered a little from the awkward positions that they were standing in, thanks to having to stop mid-step – but after a few seconds, it became clear that neither of them was going to falter more than they already had. 

He poked his tongue out at them both, then turned his back on them again and said, “Green light!” 

Moments later, one set of footsteps caught up to him, and a familiar hand tapped the back of his head. “I win again!” declared Chara. 

Flowey – or rather, Asriel, as he greatly preferred to be called since his revelations of a week ago – smiled as each of his siblings flopped down in the dirt beside him. Chara looked triumphantly; they’d won about two thirds of the Red Light Green Light games, even though they hadn’t always been so lucky at other games. “Don’t worry, Frisk,” he said. “Chara just keeps winning ‘cause they’ve got longer legs than you.” 

Frisk shrugged and smiled. They didn’t really care about who won each game; they were just happy to be playing with their siblings.

“If I’ve got longer legs, then I should have been able to win against _you_ , since you have no legs,” retorted Chara. “But that’s not exactly how it worked, did it?” 

Asriel snickered. At first, the human children had allowed him to be a ‘runner’, until his ability to pop up anywhere at high speed ruined three or four games by granting him an instant win. After that, he was strictly relegated to ‘counter.’ Honestly, he was surprised by how much these well-worn familiar activities still entertained him, given that his backstory described him as being jaded from seeing and doing literally _everything_. Maybe having a full range of emotions made mundane things worthwhile again…or maybe, just maybe, the world wasn’t quite as predictable as his programming had made him think it was. Not outside of game time, anyway.

Chara plopped down into a sitting position beside him, legs pretzel-crossed. “Anybody know what time it is?” they asked. 

Frisk held up five fingers as they sat down. 

“We’ll have to go soon. Mom said that dinner would be at six.” Chara’s eyes slowly shifted towards Asriel, and he stiffened, hunching up his stem defensively. He knew what was coming next. His sibling had said the same exact thing to him every day for the past week before they and Frisk departed for the evening. 

“Not tonight, Chara,” he said warily.

They huffed at him. “It has to be _some_ night!”

“Why? Why does it _have_ to be? I told you over and over again that it’s not a good idea!”  
  
“Because Mom and Dad really miss you—”

“I _know_ that—” 

“And since you _are_ you again—”

“Chara—” 

“It doesn’t really matter whether you’re a flower or—” 

“Chara, listen!” he burst out. “We’ve been through this over and over. I _know_ that Mom and Dad aren’t going to care what I look like. I _know_ that they would be happy to have me home! But it doesn’t matter, because I know for sure that _they’re never going to believe that this is me!_ ” 

No sooner had he finished his proclamation then he felt Frisk tapping one of his petals softly. As soon as they had both of their siblings’ attention, they signed, ‘ _Don’t fight_.’

Asriel sighed. “It’s okay, Frisk. We’re not fighting. We’re just…disagreeing." 

“Yeah,” agreed Chara, before folding their arms defensively. In typical Chara fashion, they refused to back down once they had an idea solidly planted in their head this way. “But what’s your _problem_ , Asriel? Why don’t you even want to try going back? You don’t know what will happen until you try!” 

“I’ve put Mom and Dad through enough already,” he murmured. “They deserve to be happy.” 

“Hey.” They bopped his droopy chin with one finger. “ _We_ put them through enough already. Don’t go talking _all_ the credit. And you deserve to be happy, too. If they can accept me after knowing everything that I did, then…why not you?” 

Asriel puffed out his cheeks in frustration. It was _different_ , their situations and transgressions were so different, and why didn’t they understand that?! He could no longer even believe that he’d had the nerve to say that they weren’t the greatest person. It was probably the most hypocritical statement he’d ever made, and he had certainly made quite a few over the course of his backstory. 

Just then, Frisk sat up straighter and pointed towards the end of the room, where the sound of pattering footsteps had started to advance towards them. Asriel was familiar enough with each character’s mannerisms to pin everyone down by the sound of their movements, so even before he turned himself around to get a better look, he knew who was coming. It was, in fact, one of the only monsters who he didn’t feel the need to hide himself around. 

A couple of seconds later, Papyrus placed his hands on his hips as he bounded up to the trio. “Human!” he exclaimed. “And other human! Oh, and Flowery!” 

Frisk grinned and scrambled up to hug Papyrus’s leg. Asriel frowned at the sound of his alternate name (or at least, at the incorrect variant of it), hunkering down a little. Chara reached out to cup the back of his head reassuringly and said, “Actually, his name is _Asriel_.” 

Papyrus, who’d knelt down to return Frisk’s hug, blinked but appeared otherwise unperturbed. “Oh, of course! I know the story, but I didn’t realize that you like to be called Asriel outside of game time! If that’s the case, then…I, the Great Papyrus, will gladly call you whatever you want! Nyeh heh heh!” 

“Um, thank you?” said Asriel, suddenly feeling horrifically out of practice at being nice.

Beside him, Chara crossed their arms again, looking mostly satisfied but still not quite comfortable. A little tidbit from his pre-Flowey days suddenly sprang up in his memory: Chara had some kind of subtle distrust towards grown-ups. It was not something that they’d ever mentioned aloud – adults, unlike humans, were not an object of their constant scorn – but there was still a definite suspicion in them whenever they met someone who wasn’t a child. He’d have to tell them later that Papyrus barely counted as an adult. 

Frisk leaned back in Papyrus’s arms, starting to sign with their swift little fingers. Asriel didn’t catch every word, since they were standing back-to, but they seemed to be briefly summarizing how they and Chara had found him and determined that he possessed the ability to love again. And Papyrus, of course, reacted to the story with his usual unwavering cheer. 

“That’s great news!” he declared. “I’m sure that you’ll have fun hanging with Fl – sorry, with Asriel! Maybe soon we can all hang out together, but for now, I have a training session, and Undyne gets cross if I show up late!”

“Training?” echoed Chara. “Um…even though the story’s set so that you can’t ever be a member of the Royal Guard?” 

“Yes! You see, even if that’s the case, I just enjoy training with Undyne!” Papyrus straightened up and tossed his cape over one shoulder dramatically. “And with her guidance, the Great Papyrus can continue to become even greater-er! Well, be seeing you, humans and Asriel!”

With that, he marched off further into Waterfall, carefully maneuvering around Asriel. Frisk waved goodbye, and Chara’s hackles gradually descended as they watched him go. 

Finally they said, “Did you see that? Papyrus believed that you were really you once we explained.” 

Asriel rolled his eyes. “Papyrus believes anything you tell him. Trust me, I know.”

“Okay, but…you know, if you _did_ go see our parents again, it’s not like you would be going alone.” Chara dropped down to their hands and knees in front of him so that they could properly look him in the eye. “Me and Frisk would be there, and we’d vouch for you! Don’t you think that Mom and Dad will believe us?”

“It’s not that they won’t _believe_ you, but they’ll think—” He choked off his words as a finger was abruptly smushed against his mouth. Chara’s red-brown eyes glittered beneath their fringe of bangs. 

“Forget about what Mom and Dad might or might not think and do,” they said seriously, slowly withdrawing their finger. “What do _you_ want, Asriel? I mean, what do you _really_ want?” 

That…wasn’t an easy question to answer, especially since it was one that he’d avoided asking himself since the pacifist run had ended. What _he_ wanted no longer mattered, because for the vast majority of his backstory, he’d been doing nothing _but_ what he wanted, with no regard given to the other monsters that he was hurting. Now it was time to let them be happy without interference. But if he was honest with himself, after so many days of isolation, looking forward to the few hours he could spend with his siblings but all alone the rest of the time – and, admittedly, wondering it would be like to be part of a family again…then, well… 

He was used to feeling much older than the age he’d been when he died, but not for the first time over the past week, the reality that he was still just a child reached out and squeezed his heart in its grasp.  
  
“I want to go home,” he mumbled.

Chara smiled – but not the brazen I-told-you-so smile that he’d been expecting; this was a much gentler expression. “I want that too. So…why don’t you come home…?” 

“Not tonight,” he said quickly. “I…I just don’t think I’m ready for that tonight. But…tomorrow…?”

Frisk hurried up to him, grinning, their hands clasped eagerly underneath their chin.

“Okay! Tomorrow!” agreed Chara eagerly, sitting back on their heels. “We’ll meet you at your room before the Ruins, and then we’ll all go see Mom. It’s gonna be so great…! And you’ll be fine, I promise!” 

He bobbed his head in admittedly hesitant agreement. “Okay, guys. I…I trust you.” 

Frisk beamed down at him before signing in his direction: ‘ _We really do have to go now. But we’ll see you soon!’_

“O-of course.” A nervous giggle escaped his mouth. “See you soon…” 

When Chara and Frisk finally took off, Asriel retreated to the room in Waterfall where a statue in his likeness now slouched into rubble, hunkering in such a position that the umbrella overhead protected him. The music box tune that haunted the entire game’s soundtrack tinkled amidst the sound of dripping water. Just like he usually did when he was alone for the night, he closed his eyes and listened, recalling the secret words that went along with the tune without letting himself remember where they’d come from… 

_Good night to all the Under_

_Good night to everything_

_Still, I can’t help but wonder_

_What will tomorrow bring?_

What _would_ tomorrow bring? The question pervaded the loneliness that he always felt during the evenings. Maybe this time tomorrow, he _wouldn’t_ be lonely, because he’d be home…for the first time in a long, long while, he allowed himself to hope that it might be possible. 

_Who can say where we might go_

_Within the coming days?_

_Still, there’s one thing that I know:_

_I will love you always…_

 

* * *

 The following morning, Chara was hopping through the Ruins more than walking, their strides covering at least twice as much distance as usual. One on side, Frisk jogged to keep pace with them; on the other Asriel kept popping up for a couple of seconds, ducking his head back down into the ground, and then reappearing beside them again shortly afterward. His face seemed nervous every time they glimpsed it, and they kept having the urge to reach down and hold his hand – only to recall each time they touched the empty air that he no longer had any hands to hold.

_Oh, well, at least he’s here and alive and himself. And now I won’t have to keep leaving him every night…!_

The past week (during which they’d had a reprieve from game time) certainly hadn’t been _bad_ , but it had felt subtly off-balance in ways that Chara couldn’t help but be aware of. They and Frisk had been going back and forth between Home and New Home, spending some nights with Toriel and others with Asgore. The New Home nights were slightly more comfortable to Chara, possibly just because they were able to sleep in their own bed, but not having both of their parents in the same house made their world feel strangely empty. 

However, nothing could compare to the immense hole left by Asriel’s absence. 

Their adoptive brother was not just the first monster they’d ever trusted, but the first _person_ they’d ever trusted, period. And being separated from him was just _weird_. It had been weird during the game, when they’d been invisible and intangible and drifting behind Frisk, and it was even weirder now that they existed more or less like they always had but no longer had their constant companion. Well, today, that was finally going to change…even if he was stuck being a flower. 

Finally, Home came into sight, and Chara bounded up to the door with Frisk at their heels. They were winded, but it felt good, in a way that no one would be able to understand unless they’d spent time without a body. A moment later, Asriel popped his head up beside them, his mouth pressed into a thin little line. 

“You guys ready for this?” asked Chara breathlessly. 

Frisk nodded eagerly and flashed a thumbs-up. 

“I guess so,” muttered Asriel. He looked as if he were preparing to enter a prison instead of a house. Well, Chara reasoned, the sooner he got inside and saw that everything was okay, the sooner he could wipe that gloomy look off of his face. So they pushed open the door. 

“Mom!” they called, stepping into the foyer. 

“Children?” Toriel’s voice sounded slightly distant; she was probably in the kitchen. “You are back quite early! Did you forget something?” 

Anticipation sparked in Chara’s chest, and they rolled back and forth on the balls of their feet. “No! Can you please come here for one second? We want to show you something…!” 

Something…or someone.

They felt Asriel’s petals brush against the back of their leg, and they turned back toward him with a grin, their fingers fidgeting with boundless energy. Soon enough, Toriel ducked into the foyer, looking gently perplexed. 

“Mom, look!” exclaimed Chara, and in unison, they and Frisk stepped aside like two halves of a curtain to reveal the flower behind them.

Toriel stiffened at once, staring at him as if he was a severed limb that someone had left on her doorstep…but she said nothing. That was…a little ominous. Chara was familiar enough with adults to know that they were often at their most dangerous when they were completely silent, but if she wasn’t going to talk, then they’d just explain everything before she had a chance to get really made. That way the crisis would be averted, right? 

“Mom,” they started quickly, “me and Frisk went to go see Flowey a few days ago, just to check on him and maybe keep him company, but it turns out that when it’s not game time, he isn’t really Flowey! I mean, he’s Asriel! He’s not evil and he’s not soulless and he can feel things just like everybody else, because he’s Asriel and he’s finally come home…!” 

Frisk nodded in over-emphatic agreement, resting their fingertips against the back of Asriel’s head.

Toriel still said nothing, and he was starting to wilt a bit beneath her withering gaze. Still…Chara liked to believe that they could see persistent hope still flickering in his eyes. As long as none of them gave up, they were sure that Toriel would be convinced eventually… 

“M…Mom?” he tried in a faint voice.

Toriel’s eyes flared wide, and she looked as if he had slapped her – or as if she were about to slap him. Then she took a deep breath, and at last she spoke, quick and tense but still patient:

“Children, listen to me,” she murmured to Frisk and Chara. “I know that you had the best of intentions, and I commend you for your kindness, I really do. But this…this _thing_ has tricked you. The only thing he ever does when shown kindness is take advantage of it. He once told me the same lie that he has now told you; he spent weeks here in my house, and I welcomed him, because he told me that he was my son and I wanted more than anything to believe him. I believed him then. I cannot believe him now. And I suggest that you two step away quickly before he tries anything.” 

With that, she reached out to them, but Chara recoiled. Frisk darted in front of Asriel and stood with their arms held out protectively. ‘ _He is not a thing!_ ’ they signed, scowling. ‘ _He is Asriel!_ ’

“ _No_ , Frisk, he is _not_ Asriel!” snapped Toriel, before catching herself and smoothing over her tone of voice. “Not anymore. I am sorry, I know that you only wanted to help, but…can you not see that _he_ is beyond saving completely?” 

Chara’s face tingled icily. Their mother had certainly been strict on some occasions, but they had never known her to be so cruel. How could she talk about her own son like this…?!

Then Asriel began to emit a horribly strained, choked-off laughter. 

“I knew this would happen,” he said darkly, his stem quivering with suppressed emotion. “I knew that you’d never believe them…! Why _would_ you?! You think that you know _everything!_ I-I was hoping that you might listen to them, but…!”

Without warning, he rounded on the two human children, his petals bristling. 

“Why did you bring me here?!” he demanded. “Why did I ever let you talk me into this?! Especially YOU—” This was directed towards Chara, who flinched. “You and your stupid _plans_ that do nothing but make everybody miserable! Why did you have to come along?! Why didn’t you just leave me alone like I asked you to?! Why did you have to make me believe that – that things would be _all right?!_ You…you’re such…!” 

A hysterical sound burst out of him – laugh, sob, or hiccup, it was hard to tell for sure. 

“I’m such an _IDIOT_!” 

With that, he vanished into the ground, like a dream boiling away in the morning sun. 

“ASRIEL!” screamed Chara, dropping to their knees, hands falling upon the patch of floor where he’d disappeared, but they were far too late. Face contorted with desperation and anguish, cheeks going from pink to vivid scarlet, they leapt up to face Toriel. “Why did you do that?! Do you know how long it took to get him to come here?! We were finally gonna be a happy family again, but – but – you _ruined_ it, and now he _hates_ me–!”

Frisk tapped their shoulder and urgently signed, ‘ _He doesn’t hate you. He’s just hurt._ ’ 

Chara shook their head, and now Toriel was opening her mouth to say something, but they didn’t care what it was at all. They had been so sure that she would see reason, but…but…leave it to a grown-up to do something like this…! 

“Come on!” they said, snatching up Frisk’s hand and shouldering open the front door. “We’re leaving!” 

Toriel’s eyes widened, and she hitched up her robe to start after them as they ran out. “Chara!” she called sharply. “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“To find my brother!” they shrieked. “And maybe to find somebody who will actually believe the truth when it’s right in front of them, unlike _you!_ ” 

With that, they shut her out of mind and began to run back through the Ruins, shouting Asriel’s name.


	4. What will tomorrow bring?

The Ruins, the catacombs, the forest tundra flashed by beneath Chara’s pounding feet. They kept their eyes locked on the ground, searching for any flicker of gold and green – but aside from the bed of inanimate flowers in an otherwise abandoned room, they had seen nothing of the kind.

“Asriel…!!” 

They were just barely aware of Frisk keeping pace behind them, not shouting but searching just as far. As the two human children reached Snowdin, a handful of villagers shot them strange looks, but Chara couldn’t have cared less. Barely pausing to catch their breath, they pressed on towards Waterfall, a far more deserted area and therefore a place where their brother was more likely to have run off to. 

“Asriel!! _Asriel!!_ ” 

No response, but the echo flowers all around them breathily repeated their pleas: “ _Asriel…Asriel…Asriel_ …” 

Finally, they reached the room with the crumbling statue and umbrella and music box, the room where Chara had rested all their hopes – and at first, they really thought that said hopes might not be completely unfounded. Their heart surged when they spotted a glimmer of yellow among the cavern’s washed-out blues and grays, and they charged towards it, paying no heed to the winded Frisk who was struggling to keep up with them. “Asriel!” they cried, skidding to a halt on their knees before the statue, snatching for the tiny spot of gold… 

Their fingers closed around a single silkly petal. It could have been from any of the flowers around the game, except for the fact that it was so far from any of the spots where they grew. Asriel had been here, but it looked as if he was here no longer. 

Chara’s fist squeezed shakily around the petal, and they desperately tried to look beneath and behind the statue, unable to accept their failure. Surely he was still here, he _must_ have been here, he wouldn’t just run away from them…! 

( _Why did you have to come along?! Why didn’t you just leave me alone like I asked you to?! Why did you have to make me believe that things would be all right?!)_

They trembled in place, too petrified even for their usual nervous giggles. No, they…they hadn’t done anything wrong, had they? They hadn’t known at all that Toriel would react the way she had! How could Asriel blame them for that?!

( _You and your stupid plans that do nothing but make everybody miserable…!)_

…he could blame them because…because it had been their idea. They were the one who’d pushed him to come home. Just like it had been their idea to use buttercups in a long-ago pie, their idea to enact a grand scheme to free all of monsterkind… 

Kneeling before the slumped statue in Waterfall, clutching a discarded petal as if it were the last lifeline to their brother, Chara began to cry. 

Their grief made it feel like an age before they felt Frisk’s arms slipping around them, although it couldn’t have been longer than a couple of minutes. Chara swallowed painfully, squinting open their eyes to a blurred and wavering world. “He’s gone, isn’t he?” they whispered. “H-he’s not gonna come back…” 

Frisk shook their head emphatically, turning Chara’s head gently so that their sibling could see them sign. ‘ _Of course he will. He just wants to be alone right now.’_  

Chara dragged a sleeve across their face, sniffling miserably, trailing tears and snot across their arm. “He was r-right about me, you know. About me not being a good person. About my ideas making everybody miserable…that’s all I ever do…!” 

Frisk shook their head again, but this time they didn’t sign, because their hands were preoccupied squeezing Chara tightly. 

Despondently, Chara stared at the spot where they’d found the fallen flower petal, surrounded by the gentle pinging melody that they recognized very well. Asriel had been here; maybe he’d taken off when he heard them coming, or maybe he was still here, just carefully tucked out of sight. As long as the latter might be true, there was at least something that they wanted to say, especially not knowing when they would properly see him again. 

“Asriel?” they whispered, fingers tightening around the petal that they were still clutching. “If you’re there…I-I’m sorry…I’m really sorry. I never wanted this to happen. If you need to be alone for a little while, that’s okay…but we’ll be here for you when you need us. _If_ you need us…” 

Frisk nodded and lifted their hands, and Chara translated their words aloud. 

“Frisk says they love you. And so do I. No matter what the grown-ups think.” 

A few moments of silence, of feeble hope, wishing that maybe he’d heard them and would pop his head out from behind the statue. But no such thing happened. Chara and Frisk merely sat on the ground, holding on to each other, drooping slightly with the weight of their failed family reunion. 

“We should go,” said Chara at last. If Asriel was here, and if he wanted to be alone, then they weren’t doing him any favors by hanging around. 

Frisk hesitated for a moment, then signed, ‘ _Home?_ ’ 

“Not to Mom’s Home,” answered Chara immediately. They weren’t so sure that they could stand to be around her right now, and Frisk seemed to feel much the same, despite being the far less vengeful of the two. “Let’s go stay with Dad tonight. He won’t mind.” 

Frisk bobbed their head, and after another few seconds of deliberation, the two of them helped each other to their feet and headed in the direction of the Capital. 

Chara and Frisk had gone to see Asgore a few times over the past week, although they hadn’t yet stayed overnight – which was a shame, because Chara had always been somewhat more attached to him than they were to Toriel. They couldn’t quite explain why, but they’d warmed up to him more quickly when they first arrived in the Underground, and he was usually the grown-up that they turned to when they wanted an adult’s comfort. Of course, tonight, being around him wasn’t quite as reassuring, because who they really wanted was Asriel; still, it was nice to sit in the house they’d grown up in, surrounded by the familiar smells of flowers and tea, and to be able to reach out and hold their father’s hand while he did his best to prepare supper for his two children and get them to bed. 

By mutual agreement, neither Frisk nor Chara mentioned anything about Flowey or Asriel. Asgore was not completely oblivious to their darkened moods, but they just brushed his questions aside when he asked them what was wrong, and he wasn’t the sort to keep pressing them about it. And when it was bedtime, even though New Home had two beds open to them, they both crawled into the one that had once been Asriel’s. Truthfully, Chara couldn’t help viewing their own bed with the slightest amount of wariness, given that they last time they’d lain there, they had never risen again.

 “Tomorrow we should keep looking for Asriel,” murmured Chara to Frisk, once they were snugged up beside each other in soft darkness. “If he hasn’t turned up yet, I mean.” 

Frisk nodded, their head rustling against the pillow, then scooted a little closer to Chara. Chara had just enough time to wonder before they fell asleep how someone like them had ended up with someone like Frisk as a sibling. 

* * *

 

Toriel was walking. 

To get from her home in the Ruins to her destination in Waterfall, she could have easily taken the River Person’s boat; there was even a hidden dock in the Ruins, which the players could never access, allowing transport as far as another hidden dock in the Capital. But today, she wanted the walk. She needed it to clear her head, to get her tumultuous thoughts in order.

It had been three days since she had last seen her children in her person. Chara was not answering their phone for her, and she hadn’t even had the heart to try calling Frisk, but Asgore turned out to have no qualms about answering her phone calls. Even if he’d sounded like he was bracing himself for a fire attack sent down the line at any second. Nevertheless, he’d confirmed that the children were with him, that they were safe, if a bit surlier than he’d expected. “Has something happened?” he’d eventually asked her at the end of that uncomfortable called. 

“Yes,” she’d replied. “But I do not wish to speak of it now. Another time, perhaps.” And she had hung up the phone. 

However, given what she’d learned just an hour ago, _another time_ was going to have to be quite soon. 

Toriel had been settled into her reading chair, peering through her glasses at a book and trying to take her mind off of things, when a knock had sounded out at the front door. Upon looking up, however, she realized that the knock was actually _not_ at the front door, but rather at the doorway to the sitting room, where Sans stood smiling awkwardly and rapping his knuckles against the wall. 

“Sans!” she exclaimed, snapping the book shut and rising from her chair. “This is a surprise! What brings you here, my friend?” 

He stuffed his hand back into his pocket. He was still smiling, but then, he was _always_ smiling; it was really the only expression that his mouth could form. And something about the lines of tension in his face set her on edge. “I don’t really have a good way to tell you this,” he started.

“Tell me what?” she asked, frowning.

“Uh, your kids,” he said. “Frisk and Chara. They were here the other day and they were telling you about how Flowey wasn’t really Flowey anymore, right?” 

She tensed. “How did you know that?”  
  
“Heard it through the grapevine.” He paused. “By which I mean my brother. Uh, anyway, it kind of prompted me to…look into things. Specifically, into Flowey’s code. Sprites can lie, but their codes can’t.” 

Toriel felt a cold prickling sensation start up in her cheeks. “What exactly are you trying to tell me, Sans?” she asked stiffly. 

“Tori…your kids were telling the truth about Asriel.” 

Now, walking through the vast damp caverns of Waterfall, that cold prickling feeling had moved from her face to her heart. She couldn’t remember the last time that she had ever been so completely, utterly, desolately _wrong_.

 _I did what I thought was best. I was trying to protect my little ones. I have been hurt so many times before. It was perfectly understandable that I should be skeptical…_  

Excuse after excuse fell flat and perished in her head. The only thing that persisted was something like horror as she thought about her son a few days ago, clearly terrified, opening his heart to her for nothing but the narrow possibility of acceptance…and she’d flat-out rejected him. Disowned him, called him a _thing_ , despite (or, perhaps, _because of_ ) the hole in her heart that had scarcely diminished since his long-ago death. 

“Look, it’s hard for me to explain how exactly I _know_ ,” Sans had said, holding up his hands when she rounded on him, demanding to hear how he could be so certain. “I’m programmed to understand the codes, and even then, I still find it all complicated. But every character has a core personality, so that even when they have to switch bodies, they’re still themselves. Well, I checked out Asriel’s personality, and…yeah, he _is_ Asriel. Even when he’s in the Flowey body, he’s just got that one personality, and it’s him.” 

The way he’d gazed at her, the way his face had crumpled when she looked back at him as if he were a piece of rubbish. _How could I ever have doubted him?_  

Sans sounding increasingly weary as he said, “Trust me, I was afraid he might be tricking them, too. I know exactly what Flowey’s like in the game. But I double-checked, triple-checked even, and…I mean, I guess this isn’t _in the game,_ is it? And he’s not Flowey.” 

 _I said that he was beyond saving completely_. 

“Try not to beat yourself up too much, Tori. If I’d been through everything you had, I probably would have reacted the same way that you did. Or, uh, much worse, actually.”

 _I said that he was not my son_. 

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do know where he is now. ‘104 room_water_statue.’ That means…” 

That meant the room in Waterfall with the broken statue and music box puzzle. And now, propelled along by her relentless thoughts, she had arrived. 

Toriel inhaled deeply. The air felt too thick, cold but humid, and she heard _that song_ echoing across the cave on repeat. One of the only music tracks that played outside of game time, because it came directly from an external object. A song with lyrics that only the characters of this game would ever know.

_Good night to all the Under_  
_Good night to everything_  
_Still, I can’t help but wonder  
_ _What will tomorrow bring?_

The words rose from deep within her programmed memory as a lullaby that she used to sing to her son, long ago. Backstory was such a funny thing here; a lot of it was left as subtle hints that the player was meant to piece together themselves, while other details existed for the characters alone. To flesh them out, to give them personality. To make them _who they were_. 

So where did you draw the line between yourself and the events that you logically knew had never happened?

“Asriel?” said Toriel, slowly, distinctly, addressing the room at large. She couldn’t see him, but… “I know you are here somewhere, are you not?” 

Raindrops pattered against the open umbrella. The music box played on. She was breathing in memories, almost drowning in them. Then… 

“What do _you_ want?” hissed a voice that, at first, she could barely identify as her son’s. It seemed to emanate both from everywhere at once and from nowhere in particular. But that was just a trick, theatrics so that he couldn’t be found unless he wanted to. And if she focused, setting all of her preconceived notions of Flowey aside, it really wasn’t that difficult to hear Asriel underneath – sounding like a young boy who threw tantrums and ran off to his room sometimes, just like any other child. Except sadder and more bitter. 

She composed herself. It was best to get this over with quickly; if he wanted her gone, then she wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ bedgrudge him that. But first, she needed to say what she had come here to say. “Asriel…I do not know if you can forgive me. For what I said. For…how I treated you.” A deep breath. “But I am sorry. Sorrier than I have words to tell you.” 

She could have told him, then, about how much she had begun to doubt her own conviction over the past few days. She had sat in her chair hour after hour, affecting to read while secretly thinking, _What if I am wrong? What if the children were telling the truth?,_ and then pushing the thoughts out when they began to cause too much discomfort. And then that phone call with Asgore, where his excessive tact around her – his apparent _fear_ of her – had planted yet more seeds of doubt, causing her to seriously ponder her actions in the game and in her history, questioning if those things were really as righteous as she had always told herself that they were. 

“You – w-what?!” His voice faltered ever so slightly before strengthening again. “What are you trying to pull?!” 

Toriel had to shut her eyes for a moment in order to get herself together. “Please understand…I have been hurt so many times, lost so many things, but despite that…I know that I was wrong. I know that you were telling me the truth. I should have given you the benefit of the doubt before, and I am _sorry_ …” 

She had to gulp down the pleading note that had infiltrated her words. 

A moment of incredulous not-quite-silence. “You’re sorr— _you’ve_ been hurt?! D-do you even know who you’re talking to? What _I_ …?!” As Asriel grew more agitated, his efforts to throw his voice started to break down; she was now almost certain that he was someplace behind the statue. “I lost _everything_! I lost Chara because I agreed to their plan to free all the monsters! Then the humans killed me because they thought I had hurt Chara – as if I would _ever_ hurt them…! And then I was a flower! A _flower_! No explanation, no warning, _nothing_! I cried and cried for help for _hours_ , a-and then even when Dad finally came, I couldn’t feel anything! Not around him or you or _anyone_ …! I couldn’t even get rid of myself because I always just came back without meaning too! A-And after that, I…I-I-I…!”

 He devolved into dark, mortified laughter that made Toriel’s eyes sting.

 “I was so _awful_!” he shrieked from his secluded hideaway behind the statue. “How did I ever think that things would ever be okay for me ever again?!”

He lapsed into another laughing fit, forcing her to close her eyes and steady herself. When she opened them again, silent tears slithered down her cheeks, barely tangible. 

“Yes. You have been through more than any child should ever have to go through,” she murmured, stepping hesitantly closer to the statue. “Asriel…when I lost you, I lost my entire world. I can only imagine how much worse that entire experience was for you. I wish with all of my heart that I could go back and make things better for you, but…I cannot. I failed you. I could not even help my own child…” 

Not even when he’d practically crawled to her doorstep searching for the love that he had long been denied. 

“You do not have to forgive me,” she told him quietly, hanging her head. “But I do still hope you will come home – if not for me, then for your siblings. They miss you so much…” 

No response. Woven in between the sounds of rain and music, she heard petals rustling, tense breathing…but nothing more. Well, how could she have expected anything more? He had peeled away her façade and seen the flaw-riddled foundation that she had done her best to hide. He had experienced her willingness to turn on her own child without even pausing to think. Of course he would have no desire to return home after that. 

“I understand,” she murmured, ghosting a little closer to the statue despite herself. The sculpture had been destroyed almost beyond recognition, but she could still imagine that its tumbledown form was her son, in the body he had been robbed of, slouched over in despair. “I…will leave you in peace now.” 

And then, because she couldn’t help herself, she placed her hand on top of the statue the way she used to place her hand on her son’s head, and she sang softly in time with the music box: 

“ _Good night to all the Under_  
_Good night to everything_  
_Still, I can’t help but wonder_  
_What will tomorrow bring?_  
_Who can say where we might go_  
_Within the coming days?_  
_But there’s one thing that I know…  
__I will love you always_.” 

Toriel’s voice faded, and she turned away slowly. Soon enough, she was walking again. 

But this time, she didn’t get very far.

She hadn’t even reached the room’s exit when her ears pricked at the sound of more rustling leaves and petals, followed by a hasty call of, “W-wait!” Then, before she could even react, a golden flower emerged from the ground at her feet – slightly wilted, but still looking up directly into her face.  
  
Startled, she took a step back, placing her hand over her heart. “Asriel?” 

“Mom, I…” Asriel looked askance, and after a moment, a slender vine popped up to scrub at his eyes. “I-I’m sorry too. For…for what I said to you the other day. I-it wasn’t right…” 

Toriel’s expression softened by degrees. After a moment, she knelt down before him, trying to get slightly more on his level. “You do not have to apologize,” she said. 

“Y-yes I do!” he insisted. “That was mean. It was something that Flowey would say. And then w-what I said to Frisk…and Chara…” His petals drooped miserably around his face. “After that, I-I almost thought I _was_ Flowey. That I was just fooling myself…” 

Before she knew what he was doing, she had reached out, tipping up his chin with one gentle fingertip. “It is not something that Flowey would say,” she answered firmly. “It is something that a very hurt and frightened little boy would say when he was rejected by his own mother.” 

Tears welled in his eyes, tears that seemed too large for his tiny body, and he tried to blink them back with limited success. “I’m sorry, Mama,” he whispered. 

Toriel’s heart stilled – then it just about melted. How she longed to pick him up and hold him against her as she had done so long before…! Or rather, as she had _never_ done, because that was only in her programmed backstory. Still, it was real enough, wasn’t it? Real enough to affect both of them. But since she could not do that, she did the next best thing, and cupped one hand securely around her son with the pad of her thumb resting against his cheek.

Asriel uttered a shaky sigh, leaning against her hand. This wasn’t much of an embrace, but it was still a great step forward for them both…and besides, she reminded herself, the important thing was not what form he had taken. It was that he was still here with her, he was still _himself_ , and that was more than she’d had for a long, long time. 

They stayed like that for quite some time, without words, but that was all right. They didn’t need words for this. Asriel was the one who finally spoke again, cautiously piping up, “Mama?” 

“Yes, my son?” she asked, stroking one of his petals idly. 

His mouth twitched into a smile. “I missed you…” 

“I missed you, too.” That little smile felt to her like the warmth of a fire in a frozen wasteland. “More than I can say.” 

The smile widened a notch. “Can we go home now?” 

Toriel smiled back. “Of course we can.” 

* * *

 

Tomorrow, she would call her other two children and let them know that she had their brother in hand; she knew that they had been looking all over the game for him without success. Then they could hopefully all reconcile. In the meantime, she placed Asriel in a flowerpot on her nightstand to serve him as a bed, filling it with loose soil so that he could easily uproot himself when he wanted to. That evening, watching him sleep as she settled herself into her queen-size bed, she thought that she might not know quite how to deal with having a flower for a son, but she could certainly figure it out. 

But in the night, she awakened to his whimpers and cries beside her, an evident nightmare sending shivers up his stem. When she reached out to wake him, he latched on to her hands as well as he could, curling around her fingers like ivy around a trellis. 

“Mama!” He trembled in her grasp, coming back to the waking world with agonizing slowness. “M-Mama, i-it’s me…! I’m not Flowey! _I’m not Flowey!_ ”

“I know,” murmured Toriel, raising him against her shoulder. “I know that you are not Flowey. You are Asriel, and you are my dearest boy…” 

It took some minutes for her to console him, but even once he’d accepted that he had only been dreaming, he was still clearly upset. At last, while she was humming him his lullaby, he gave his head a quick shake to dispel the teardrops and looked up at her. “Mama?” he whispered. 

She stopped humming. “Yes, my love?” 

He screwed up his face against the threat of fresh tears. “I don’t wanna be a flower anymore…” 

If there was one thing that Toriel despised feeling, it was helplessness – especially where her children were concerned. She was the mother, her son wanted her to make it all better, but this was a situation that she was powerless against. 

“I-I know that you do not. I…” 

It was the programmers who had decided to relegate him to a flower outside of game-time, and in the face of their constraints, what could she do? What could _anyone_ — 

And it was then, for the first time in hours, that she recalled something that Sans had said to her earlier in the day. 

_Every character has a core personality, so that even when they have to switch bodies, they’re still themselves. Well, I checked out Asriel’s personality, and…yeah, he is Asriel. Even when he’s in the Flowey body…_

Multiple bodies attached to one personality. 

‘In the Flowey body.’ 

Which meant that his goat form did exist somewhere in the codes, didn’t it? It just had to be drawn out…by someone who knew how to do that sort of thing… 

Toriel cupped her hand protectively over the back of his head. “I cannot fix it for you at this very moment,” she said slowly. “But starting tomorrow, I will see what I can do. I promise.” 

Asriel sniffled, then buried his face against her shoulder, which was the best approximation of a hug that he could manage. She ran a fingertip lightly down his stem. 

“Just remember that whether you are a flower, a rock, a tree, or anything else, you are always my son, and I will always love you just the same,” she stated firmly. She’d made the mistake of turning him away once, but never again. No matter what (or who) he looked like. 

He didn’t respond, only pressing closer against her nightgown. This spur-of-the-moment idea of hers might not work at all, but she truly hoped for his sake that it would. He had been through so much already. 

Toriel leaned back against her pillows with her son still coiled around her arms, waiting for the morning to come and bring with it what it may – new hope or new disappointments. But whatever happened, at least they were together again.

* * *

 

END OF PART ONE


	5. But somebody came

**PART TWO**

_ 5\. But somebody came _

* * *

 

 

The following morning, after successfully returning Asriel to his flowerpot, Toriel sat down in the kitchen with a cup of tea and stared at her cell phone. 

Toriel made very mediocre tea, sufficient to perk her up in the morning, but nowhere near as tasty as what Asgore used to prepare for her when they were married. Over the decades (of programmed memories), she’d grown used to it, but today the taste seemed just a bit more offensive to her mouth than usual. Perhaps she’d been so distracted that she’d gotten careless, or perhaps thinking of the first phone call that she had to make this morning had made her more aware of her shortcomings than usual. Only when half the cup was empty did she muster up enough willpower to grab her phone. 

Asgore answered on the third ring, in the wary tone of voice that she had come to recognize. “Hello?” 

“Good morning, Asgore.” Toriel shifted awkwardly in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “I hope that I did not wake you.” 

“Ah, n-no, of course not! I was just about to make breakfast…” His fumbling words disheartened her, but she let him finish regardless. “Did you, ah…need something from me?” 

She steadied herself with a breath. “I told you that I would discuss what exactly had made the children so upset at a later time.” 

“Oh! Yes, I remember. I suppose that this is the later time?” 

“Yes. There are certain things that it has become necessary for you to know.”

Toriel summarized yesterday’s events for him as best she could, treading the fine line between making sure he understood everything and not revealing all of the very personal details of what had happened between her and Asriel. Having to admit her shortcomings to someone, especially her ex-husband, made her skin heat with shame, and she found herself tugging on the high collar of robe more than once. Fortunately, Asgore was more interested in their son than in her. 

“H-he is really himself?” This time, his voice trembled not with anxiety, but with a potent mixture of joy and disbelief. “Our boy is alive…?!”

“Very much so. I know for certain now that he is Asriel, although he is a flower still.” _Though hopefully not for much longer_ , she thought but didn’t say. She didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up about the iffier part of her plans for this morning. 

It didn’t take nearly as much to convince Asgore of the truth. “Thank the programmers…! I’ll bring the children and come at once! Er, I mean…assuming that it is okay for me to visit you?” 

“You are welcome here, Asgore,” said Toriel, slightly surprising herself with the honesty of her statement.

“Ah…th-thank you. I’ll arrive soon, then…!” 

“I will prepare breakfast. See you shortly.” 

Well, at least that conversation wasn’t as tense as it could have been. Slightly reassured, she selected another number from her phone’s archaic list of contacts, waiting for the second call to go through.

“Greetings, my friend…I apologize for waking you. …Yes, as a matter of fact, he is here with me now. …Thank you for your assistance. But I am afraid that I have a rather large favor to ask…I would prefer to discuss it in person. Will you meet us for breakfast in, say, a half-hour’s time? …Thank you. Thank you very much. No, do not say that it is ‘no problem’ quite yet. It may be a more difficult situation than you think…”

* * *

 

 

 “ _Asriel_!” 

Asriel jolted awake, blinking his sleep-weighted eyes. For a moment he was intensely disoriented; then, gradually, he realized that he was back in the flowerpot where he’d initially fallen asleep last night. In his mother’s house, surrounded by a sweet, doughy smell of…blackberry pancakes? 

He couldn’t actually _see_ much of the house, though, because Chara was right in front of him, their face shoved forward until it was nearly touching his.

“Where have you been?!” they demanded. “We’ve been searching the whole game for you for like three days!” 

Then Frisk loomed into the side of his vision, nodding in agreement and signing emphatically: ‘ _We were so worried!_ ’ 

“I…” At first, addled with just-woken-up bleariness, he could barely wrap his mind around what was happening. But then the frenzy of sight and sound regained its meaning, and the memories of the last day he’d seen his siblings collided with him like a crashing Tsundereplane. His stem went rigid. “I-I…!” 

Chara took a deep breath as if to start shouting again. He tried to get in a word before they could – and as a result, he cried out, “I’m sorry for what I said to you!” at the same moment that they blurted, “I’m sorry I pushed you to go to Mom!” 

“No, you were right!” exclaimed Chara, shaking their head. “My plans really _do_ make everybody miserable…” 

“That’s not true! You were just trying to help me!” he protested. “And trying to hide from our parents was no good for me, anyway…even though it took a little while for Mom to believe me, she did eventually!”

“But you were even more miserable before she did! All because I pressed you into it…!”

“But I acted so horribly towards you! I shouldn’t have taken it out on you, Chara….!” 

They inhaled again, but this time instead of speaking, they flung their arms around his narrow body and squeezed him against their shoulder. “Just…don’t run off like that again!”

Frisk’s head popped up over Chara’s shoulder, barely within his line of vision, and Asriel swallowed. He’d really shaken them up, hadn’t he? And all because he was too busy sulking to remember that he still had family members who loved him…a couple of small tears budded in his eyes.

Chara pulled back from him slightly, frowning. “Hey…you don’t have to _cry_.” 

“S-sorry.” He sniffled, doing his best to blink the tears away. “I always was a crybaby, wasn’t I?” 

“Yeah, you were.” They beamed at him. “And I missed that, and everything else about you, like crazy.” 

With that, they leaned forward and nuzzled their forehead against his, a gesture of affection that had become common to their entire family. When he smiled and nuzzled them back, they giggled softly. “Your petals are tickling my face!” 

“Heh, oops…” No sooner had Chara pulled back than Frisk shoved their face near his, indicating that they wanted to try. So he nuzzled them as well, and they giggled, too. 

“Children?” And that was Toriel’s voice, calling to them from out in the hall. “Breakfast is ready…!” 

Chara snatched up Asriel’s flowerpot and trotted out with him in tow, Frisk hurrying just behind them. He wobbled a little in the loose soil; he _really_ wasn’t used to being carried like this… 

But that was nearly forgotten when he was placed on the dining table to find not just a tall stack of pancakes awaiting them, but also his father. As glad as he was to have his entire family in one place, Asriel couldn’t help reeling back a little. He’d forgotten that Asgore looked so _huge_ if you looked at him from a flower’s perspective. 

“Here he is, Daddy!” announced Chara, presenting their brother as though he were an art project that they were particularly proud of. 

Asriel’s mind churned with a momentary fear that this would be a repeat of what had happened three days ago, but before he could even think of something today, his father was wrapping him in the tentative, awkward embrace that resulted from someone so large trying to hug a flower. “Asriel, my son…I’ve missed you so much…!” Asgore murmured tremulously, his voice wrought with emotion.

“I...I-I missed you too, Dad…” And it was true. Asriel was surprised at how much better it felt to miss people than it was to not care about them at all – but having them all here with him was even better. He let his head rest contentedly against Asgore’s shoulder. 

“Now we are all together at last,” remarked Toriel, leaning across the table to start doling out the food. 

Frisk nodded enthusiastically and signed, ‘ _For the first time!_ ’ 

“That is true,” Toriel agreed. “We should make a habit of this!”

Asgore shifted, and Asriel suddenly realized that he crushed into a rather uncomfortable positon. “Um, Dad? You’re kinda…squishing me a little…”

“Oh!” Asgore pulled back immediately with a sheepish smile. “Sorry about that, Asriel…”

“It’s okay. No big deal.” 

Despite his petals now being slightly rumpled, Asriel felt happier than he had in a long, long time. Both of his siblings were here, and both of his parents, and they all knew who he really was. Frisk and Chara had clearly forgiven Toriel; they didn’t seem to mind when she stroked their hair affectionately, and they both returned her smiles towards them. His mother was holding up forkfuls of blackberry pancakes for him to eat, which he was devouring eagerly, having forgotten just how good her home cooking was. Everything just seemed so _normal_ , despite the fact that things had never been this way before…well, maybe this would be their new normal. 

And then a new voice said, “Knock knock.” 

Asriel turned towards the living room doorway and almost choked on a mouthful of food. Standing just a few feet away was Sans, looking a bit more tired than usual, with his hands stuffed into his jacket pockets. He didn’t look especially menacing at the moment, but Asriel wasn’t about to trust that nonchalant smile when it came from someone who, according to his programmed memories, had caused him more than his fair share of resets. 

Chara stiffened slightly, shifting into their Unknown Adult Defense Mode. Frisk, on the other hand, immediately rushed from their chair to give Sans a hug. He gave their hair a little ruffle. 

“Thank you for coming, my friend,” said Toriel, rising to greet him. “Especially on such short notice.”  
  
“Hey, if there’s breakfast involved, I definitely don’t mind.” He eyed the table over the top of Frisk’s head. “Uh, as long as you have room for me, that is.” 

“We can make room,” said Asgore, shifting Chara from their chair to his knee. They didn’t seem to mind.

Asriel frowned a little. Why would his mother have invited Sans over for breakfast? Especially at this time of morning – she must have known that the skeleton usually slept until noon or later. But she gave no hint that there was anything strange about their visitor, only serving him a large plate of pancakes as if he were just another member of the family. 

“Hey, flowerboy,” he said after a few ungraceful bites, nodding towards Asriel. “How are you doing?”

Asriel attempted a smile. “Better than before.” 

“That’s good.” Sans’s grin widened slightly; then he returned his attention to his meal. 

After that, the conversation died down a bit until the plates were more or less empty (mostly it just consisted of Frisk excitedly signing to Sans about how happy they were to have their family back together, while he smiled and nodded at them). Then, as Toriel went around collecting the dishes, she cleared her throat deliberately. “My children, why do you not go out and play for a while? We adults have a few things that we need to discuss…” 

Asriel exchanged puzzled glances with both of his siblings. “Like what?” demanded Chara. 

“Nothing that you need to worry about. Now, go on. This will only take a few minutes…”

Frisk shrugged, and Asriel would have done the same thing if he’d had shoulders. He couldn’t really see much reason for him to snoop around in everyone’s business anymore; he was finally happy with what he had.

This time it was Frisk who picked him up and carried him out, while Chara followed along behind him – so he didn’t notice when his first sibling slowed their pace as they reached the end of the hall. As Frisk carried him into the bedroom, he didn’t see Chara slip backwards through the doorway, glancing over their shoulder before returning to the living room; no one watched them at all as they found a sequestered spot near the entryway, where they could listen without being seen as long as the adults didn’t come much closer. 

They were the only child to hear the conversation…

* * *

 “So what’s going on, Toriel?”

Plates clanked and clattered together, then quieted. “Sans…I am about to ask something of you that I have no idea if you can do, so please forgive me if it is not feasible.” 

“Try me.” 

“You are in charge of the code vault for this game, are you not?” 

“Of course.”

“And yesterday, you told me that Asriel’s code consists of several bodies connected to a single personality. Is that not so?” 

Asgore’s confused baritone interjecting: “Wait, what was that about Asriel?” 

And Sans: “Oh, I think I know where this is going…” 

Footsteps gradually fading as they retreated towards the kitchen. The faint sound of running water. Then the steps returning, and Toriel’s voice once more, quieter this time… 

“He does not want to be a flower anymore. Last night…he had a nightmare, and as I was calming him down, that is what he said. ‘Mama, I do not want to be a flower anymore.’ What could I say to that? I promised him that I would do what I could, but…I do not even know if it is possible…” 

A long, heavy silence. 

“Look, Tori. I want to help, I really do. The kid deserves a break. But the codes…they can be pretty tricky business. Everything’s connected. If I touch something in Asriel’s code, then I could potentially be screwing up the entire game, and then everyone would be at risk. I just don’t feel comfortable messing with the program like that.” 

Another, longer silence. Asgore coughed tensely. 

“I’m really sorry.” 

“But…are you sure that there is _nothing_ you can do? I-I made a promise…and…” 

The tap of a bony finger against the table. “…okay, tell you what. I’ll take a look, I can at least do that much. Who knows, maybe it won’t be too risky after all. No promises, but I’ll do it for you, Tori.”

“Oh, thank you, my friend! That is more than enough for me…!” 

But Chara hadn’t heard that last part. During the second break in the conversation, they had been unable to bear listening any longer, and had hurried back down the corridor to tell their siblings what they had discovered…


End file.
